


Tie Me to the Ceiling Fan and Watch Me Spin

by rosyy



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humor, Weird Imagery But That's Just Nikki, cheetos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-19 15:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18137480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosyy/pseuds/rosyy
Summary: “Nikki, Neil, let me tell you something,” Max begins flatly. “I’m a freaking ten year old. We all know that the childhood neglect I’ve been subjected to will eventually and inevitably lead to crippling depression, and at that point, I probably will imagine my own funeral, many times over, in vivid detail. Right now, I’d like to enjoy these last vestiges of my childhood illusions, and pretend I don’t want to kill myself. That being said, I’m sure my funeral will be nothing to shit over, and personally I don’t care, since I won’t actually be around to see it. Can we please shut up and go to sleep now?”“...Wow, Max.” Nikki whistles. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this!”“I really haven’t.” Max lies down and rolls over.Max, Nikki and Neil eat Cheetos and talk about death. It's not as emo as it sounds, I guess.





	Tie Me to the Ceiling Fan and Watch Me Spin

**Author's Note:**

> my new thing is blunt and dialogue-heavy one-shots
> 
> enjoy

Sharing a tent with Neil and Nikki kind of confirms everything Max has ever assumed about mixing dumbass friends with slumber-parties. “Do you guys ever think about your own funeral?” Neil asks, middle of the-- well, okay, it’s only nine-thirty, but Max _knows_ that this is the start to a two-hour long conversation, punctuated by rouge comments from Nikki and resulting subject-changes by Neil, dotted with exasperated groans of Max’s own, all complimented by a rotted fucking cherry on top, AKA sleep-deprivation.

“Whyyy,” Max groans, raking his hands down his face. The randomly emo implications of the question are an afterthought.

“Everyday,” Nikki says solemnly.

“Do I need to call someone? Is this a cry for help?” Max deadpans, sitting up to face them. “Because if neither of you are going to commit suicide, I’d like to actually fucking sleep tonight.”

“I want mine to be a party,” Neil rolls on, ignoring Max’s comments. Max practically screeches into his pillow. “I know everybody says that, but really. A showcase of my multitude of scientific contributions to society.”

Max rolls his eyes. _“What_ contributions, Neil?”

“The ones I’ll make before I die of old age, _Max,”_ Neil snaps back, which he doesn’t really have grounds to do, considering he’s the one blabbering about useless shit in the middle of the night.

“Freaking fantastic,” Max remarks, “I’ll be sure to show up with a whole _packet_ of gold stars to decorate your coffin with. Can we _please_ not do this tonight?”

“I want mine to be a _disco_ party,” Nikki pipes. “They’ll roll my corpse in glitter glue and hang it from the ceiling fan so I can spin around.”

There’s a pause.

“...Y’know, like a disco-ball--”

“Got it, Nikki.”

“Which one of us do you think will die first?” Nikki whispers, switching to a slightly-different, increasingly-morbid subject.

“What the _fuck?”_

“That’s a loaded question, Nikki,” Neil says. “But definitely you.”

“What? Why?!”

“Well, you’re kind of reckless. You crashed a bus without hesitation, allowed me to literally shove a giant hook down your throat, plus you’re constantly eating weird stuff and just generally putting yourself into mildly life-threatening situations.” Neil elaborates.

Nikki pauses. “I guess!” she says cheerfully. “Well, in that case, I expect you both to be at my funeral disco-party. Make sure to string me up by my wrists, ‘cause it’ll look weird otherwise.”

Max raises an eyebrow. “...Right.”

“Max, what do you want your funeral to be like?” Nikki asks innocently.

“Nikki, Neil, let me tell you something,” Max begins flatly. “I’m a freaking ten year old. We all know that the childhood neglect I’ve been subjected to will eventually and inevitably lead to crippling depression, and at that point, I probably _will_ imagine my own funeral, many times over, in vivid detail. Right now, I’d like to enjoy these last vestiges of my childhood illusions, and pretend I _don’t_ want to kill myself. That being said, I’m sure my funeral will be nothing to shit over, and personally I don’t care, since I won’t actually be around to see it. Can we please shut up and go to sleep now?”

“...Wow, Max.” Nikki whistles. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this!”

“I really haven’t.” Max lies down and rolls over.

Nikki gasps. “Guys, we should have a triple-funeral!”

“What, like one of us dies and the other two kill themselves? That’s called a suicide pact, Nikki.”

“Not necessarily. We could just keep our corpses frozen until we’ve all died naturally.”

“This conversation has gotten out of hand,” Neil mutters, stressed.

“You brought it up,” Max retorts.

“I posed a thought-provoking question. Nikki made it weird,” Neil argues. “I’m going to sleep.”

“Good fucking luck,” Max scoffs.

Nikki stands. “You’re right, Max. I’m not tired anymore. All this talk has made me hungry!”

Max and Neil both sit up at the horrifying implications of this. _“What?”_ they both utter.

Nikki is leaned over, fishing for something under her bed. “Aha!” she cries, revealing a party-sized bag of spicy Cheetos. “I nabbed these from Gwen. Been saving them for a midnight snack.”

Nikki opens the bag and begins crunching noisily. Max, resigning himself to the fact that he’ll be up at least another hour, sighs and moves across the room to sit next to her.

“Gimme,” he says, snatching some out of the bag.

Neil quietly gets up and sits down on Nikki’s other side.

“These’ll be served at my funeral,” Max mutters. “If you’re too much of a pretentious fuck to appreciate hot Cheetos, then you don’t deserve to be there.”

“Agreed, I guess,” says Neil.

Max, Nikki and Neil eat hot Cheetos in the dark.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment if you liked it, I'll be so happy that I'll kiss you


End file.
